


Seafaring Women

by Sanzoparty



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, F/M, Female-Centric, Femslash, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanzoparty/pseuds/Sanzoparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pirate type AU In which the Ark is the, supposedly, last sanctuary of a fallen empire.  After years of isolation from the outside world, the 100 are sent to the sea to explore the state of the world.  Female characters take priority, and certain plot points will be altered to allow this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Departure

     The cell floor was barely visible in the dim lighting of the prison, but it was enough for Clarke to draw in.  She was hunched over, reimagining a world she had only ever heard about.  Her lack of first hand knowledge didn’t take away from the images, rather, it added a certain sense of mystery and undiscovered wonder. The vastness of the sea was somehow perfectly encapsulated in the charcoal drawings.  Fantastical lands, foreign architecture, and animals, all living on stone walls.

 

     Clarke snapped up, ears sensitive to the metallic clanks of bolts being removed.  The door slammed open, blinding Clarke with bright light. She peered through her raised hand, searching for faces she didn’t know.  Two men strode in; Redcoats.  One had a small box in hand, the other addressed her.

 

     “Prisoner 319, face the wall.” 

 

     “What is this?”

 

     “Quiet, hold out your arm.”

 

     “No, no,” Clarke insisted, “it’s not my time, it’s still a month away from my date.”

 

     “Hold out your arm.” The guard brought out his baton.  


     “Give me that watch.”

  
     “No it was my father’s.” Clarke pulled away, clutching the pocket watch.    
 

     The guard’s hand leapt for her, causing a sudden outburst from Clarke.  Evading the two guards with a strong kick and quick reflexes, Clarke made a break for the door.

 

     The weight of the door didn’t give Clarke half a reason to pause – she heaved it open without thought – what she saw outside her cell, however, did.  The hundreds of prisoner’s held within the Ark sanctuary were clamoring as a third of their population was being removed by Redcoats. Clarke turned to run, whatever this was she wanted no part in it.    

 

     “Clarke stop,” she did, so did her heart.  The voice was too familiar for Clarke to remain untouched.  “Wait here,” Clarke turned around, not fully able to believe until she saw.  

 

     “Mom?” Clarke let her mother pull her into a tight embrace.  Her voice broke, “what’s going on? What is this?”  She pushed away, searching for answer’s in her mother’s eyes. “They’re killing us all aren’t they? Reducing population to save resources.”

 

     Abby grasped her daughter firmly, “Clarke you aren’t being executed , you’re being sent out to sea. One hundred of you are being sent out with a ship.”

 

     “What? No it’s not safe, we can’t get past the reefs.  I’m not eighteen yet I shouldn’t be-“

 

     “The rules have changed Clarke,” Abby smiled at her daughter, “this gives you a chance at life. Listen to me, your instincts will tell you to take care of everybody else first, just like your father, but be careful I can’t loose you too.  I love you so much.”

 

     A leather glove grabbed Clarke’s shoulder.  She flinched.

 

     “Go with them Clarke, don’t fight this.”

 

     Clarke glanced at her mother, unable to say goodbye, and allowed herself to be handcuffed and maneuvered away by the guards.  She was led a narrow staircase, other teens in front and behind her.  Some of the others had trouble with the stairs, unable to coordinate their feet properly while being manhandled.  Clarke stumbled, but refused to fall. 

 

     They were herded into a cobbled courtyard.   A large fire was raging in the middle surrounded by four Redcoats.  They each held a long metal object and seemed to be waiting for some sort of signal.  Clarke watched carefully from her place in line, there had to be a reason the number of guards outweighed there prisoner’s.  The girl at the front, at least a year younger than Clarke, obviously struggled against her captors as she was dragged to the fire.  Clarke’s heart sunk as she watched a guard stick his rod into the depths of the fire, suddenly the scene made dreadful sense. The girl let out a panicked yell, which soon turned into a deafening howl of pain as she was branded with the hot iron. A wave of distress went through the small crowd of prisoners.  Clarke felt sick.  Four others were pulled forward, as the newly branded girl was yanked aside. 

 

     “This should be fun.”

 

     “Yeah, a riot,” Clarke muttered absentmindedly, still facing the rising panic.

 

     “Aren’t you excited? We’re actually going outside the Ark sanctuary, isn’t it amazing?”  Clarke finally fixed her gaze on the overly excited brunette. Somewhere, underneath her fears and skepticism, Clarke reflected that same adventurous spirit.  She had to stay focused on the fears and criticisms though, they were what would keep her alive.       

 

     “I’m Clarke.”

 

     “Octavia.”

 

     “Listen, Octavia, just go along with what they say, alright?  We’ll be out to sea soon but you can’t cause a scene.”  Clarke was shoved from behind.  “Tell everyone to calm down.  If this gets out of control we’re the ones who will get punished.”

 

     “Move forward 319.”

 

     “It will hurt for a moment but then we will be fine.”

  
  
        _“Move forward 319!”_   Clarke feel to the ground, scraping her knees through the light fabric of her pants.  She was hauled to her feet, a rough grip on her elbow.  Clarke stumbled towards the blaze.  She could feel the heat on her skin, her nerves warning her of the proximity. _Too close._ The Redcoat loomed over her, bringing the glowing iron out of the flaming coals. Clarke gritted her teeth, screwing her eyes shut in biting anticipation.  _Too soon_ she felt the coiled metal sinking into her flesh.  She could feel the burning heat radiating through the bones in her forearm. It felt like hell, and despite her best efforts, Clarke let out a scream like all the rest. The pain drew the experience out, but eventually the rod was pulled away.  Gasping, Clarke looked down at her forearm, a triangle symbol within a larger, identical, triangle, was burnt in her skin.

 

 

* * *

 

  

      Clarke could taste the salt in the air as she sat there, waist bound to the side of the boat.  She could see a nervous looking boy tied to the helm.  She hoped he had experience steering.  The ship was packed with all one hundred of them, some only mildly distressed, others close to tears.  Clarke guessed that the rest were in the ships hull along with some supplies. The outer walls of the Ark loomed over them, making the ship seem smaller than it was.  The ship itself sat outside the damn walls, facing the dangerous span of reef that stood between them and the sea.  Clarke caught snippets of gossip around her, but focused on the small parade of Ark authority that stood alongside the ship.

 

     “Prisoners of the Ark,” a firm voice rang out across the courtyard.  Clarke had been wondering when they were going to be spoken to. Jaha quelled the noise with a hand. Bitter, hopeful, and desperate eyes all turned to him, waiting for his words.  “Hear me now.  You’ve been given a second chance.  As your chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us.  We have no idea how the world has changed in our years of isolation.  If the odds of survival were better we would have sent others, to speak candidly you have been selected because your past crimes make you expendable. If you do survive, your crimes will be pardoned.  Once you get past the reef and into open water, you will be facing north.  Keep heading that way and you will soon find Mt Weather. There a military base, set up before the wars, it contains reservoirs of drinking water and other resources you will need.  You must locate those supplies immediately if you want to survive.  That is your only responsibility.” 

 

      There was a brief silence before the murmurs grew louder.  As all Ark personnel disappeared from sight, a few voices stood out the most. Octavia, in particular, could be heard chattering loudly. 

 

     “I can see the sea,” one clamored through the throng of voices.  All heads turned, taking in the sight of three boys who had climbed the masts. Clarke frowned, Octavia whooped.

 

     The grind of metal caught Clarke’s keen ears, and she turned to face the massive wooden wall behind them.  Things clicked into place. “Get down if you want to live,” she called.

 

     Clarke braced herself against the ships edge, fighting the urge to make the boys come down. Soon the joviality turned to gasps of awe and terror as the damn broke open.  A massive flood of water was rushing towards them.

 

     This was how they were getting through the reef.  This was how they were getting out to sea.   

 

  
  
  
  
   
  

 

   


	2. Washed Up

_Abby pushed through the doors, scanning the faces surrounding her colleagues.  The commotion was unusual for such a diplomatic place.  She had heard the rumbles overhead, first assuming something had been going on up on the floor above her.  Then the rain fell, hard and fast, pitted against her window glass._

_“What’s going on?”_

_“Storm.  Came out of nowhere.  Big one too.” A man was wheeled past her, his forehead smeared with red.  Another patient, injuries prominent, was rushed by seconds later.   “Redcoats are outside, securing the streets.  We’ve got a pretty big influx of emergency patients coming our way.  They’re gonna need you in surgery in about five, might want to head there soon. ”_

_Abby headed down the halls, clearing her head. She knew she had to focus on the task at hand, but images of the ship, the prisoners, Clarke, and the storm kept flooding her mind.  Her daughter was talented, gifted really, but no amount of skill could account for dangers of the sea; not when all your knowledge of it came from paintings and old stories._

_As much as those kids were bound to need Clarke to survive, Abby needed her more._

* * *

  

     Clarke’s hands clawed deep into the clumping sand.  She bent over, heaving up the salty water that had invaded her lungs and stomach.  She could vaguely recall the dam’s water lifting up the boat, but everything beyond that was a blurry mix of invading seawater and panic.  She was alive though, like her mother had promised. All Clarke had to do was keep it that way.  Rising to her knees, still heaving, Clarke scanned the beach.  Most of the prisoners had been lucky, the ship launching them onto soft sand, like Clarke.  Further down the beach were pebbles, slowly transforming into a more dangerously rocky terrain.  The ship was damaged, sideways, lodged up on the sandy shore.

     “He still alive?” Clarke motioned to the body lying beside Finn, kneeling down beside the one closer to her. He thumbed the boy’s neck, searching for a pulse.  Finn shook his head numbly.

 

     “Yours?”

 

     “No.”

 

     The other prisoners were staggering inland, drifting up the beach with the tide.  It started slowly, a few individuals eagerly drinking in the new sights, but soon whoops and rebellious clamours were heard up and down the crash site.  The sand seeped into the bush line, the early trees and undergrowth pushing through the drying surface. The forest ran deep, flushed with life in all shades of green.  Birds, while not seen, could be heard singing.  The Ark had only the clashing sounds of seagulls harping, fighting for scraps. Clarke gazed at the sea listening to the lapping and crashing of waves on the shore.  The horizon, a line where the grey sky met the sea, held the dim image of the ark – just the outline, no more.  Clarke would have found the scene beautiful, joyous even, if it weren’t for the dead boys behind her.  She frowned; they were going to need to find a way to Mount Weather.  

  

     Seawater had ravaged most of the supplies, the crash had scattered them, not that there were many to begin with.  A barrel of dried fish might suffice for a while, but they were going to need more if they wanted to survive.  Clarke reached for the pouch, floating in the water.  It had been waterproofed, the contents obviously vital.  Clarke pried it open, nails pulling back from her skin at the effort.  It was worth it. A compass and a map, not particularly exciting, but worth more than any supplies that had been lost. Clarke secured the compass innocuously within her breast pocket.  She unraveled the map searching for the land formations she could use for bearings. The Ark was there bending into the very edge of the yellowed paper.  It was an old map, so it centered around the main pinnacles of the long fallen empire. Mount Weather was there, right where Clarke assumed it would be.  The storm had taken them south of the mountain, pulling them further than they should’ve been. Clarke supposed they had crashed on the larger, unnamed island triangulated between the Ark and Mount Weather.

 

     “Listen up,” Clarke addressed the group as a whole, “we _need_ to find Mount Weather.  We won’t long with what we have, and once the hunger sets in things will be harder. We need to organize a search party-”

 

     “Why should we do the work?” A voice mocked, “we’ve been working to survive our whole lives – why don’t you do the work for _us_ for once, and we’ll sit back and pretend it’s all a part of the natural order” 

 

     A chorus of jeers rose out, cutting off Clarke’s reply.  It was too late for her to recapture their attention.  Her lips pursed together, she wasn’t a defeatist – but she wouldn’t be able to do this alone.

 

     “When are we heading out?” It was Octavia, Finn close in behind.

 

     “Now, but we won’t be enough, we need food for a hundred.”

 

     Finn stepped to the side, gripping the collars of two boys.  “Now we’re five.”

 

     “Then let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any comments, Kudos, etc.


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